Chaos,Corruption, and Grimm
by Dark apostle Mothac
Summary: In the 40 millennium, the galaxy is consumed in a never-ending war. In this horrifying backdrop, a dark apostle is given a task by the dark gods themselves. Now armed with a small band of chaos chosen, they will shake the very foundations of this world. Be afraid remnant, be very, very afraid...
1. Chapter 1

Chaos, Corruption, and Grimm

Chapter ONE: A test of faith

In the dark, cold, void of space a derelict ship was drifting. Nothing new. Indeed, in the forty-first millennium, after literal thousands upon thousands of years of constant and never-ending warfare, such things were more than just common, such things were to be expected and for one to find an area of space without ancient wrecks and millennium old battle fields was quite an amazing occurrence. Though in this case, at the edge of the realm of Ultramar, this particular ship was an unusual sight. In the glow of the dying star that it orbited, one could make out the heavily faded and scared emblem on its side. A demonic, horned head with its maw wide open, set upon a back ground of flames.

The interior reflected its exterior perfectly. The ship, with its life support systems still miraculously functioning, was filled with a stale air that stank of decay and death. The primary lighting systems had long since burned out, leaving the crimson emergency lights to dimly flicker in the darkness. In this dim glow, the remains of the many slaughtered rested. The entire crew, butchered and left to rot in this decrepit ship. Their blood stained against the black hull of the ship like savage art. Every last one of them dead…

Well, almost every last one of them…

:=+=:

Out of the three-hundred strong crew, two remained. To one of those two remaining crew members, it was home. The darkness of the Battle-Barge _Blasphemous Truth_ had indeed been his home for the past 800 years. Ever since he had been inducted into the word bearers legion and been shown the truth of the old faith. Ever since that fateful day, he had shown worship and devotion to his gods. Worship and devotion which were currently being tested.

Months ago, a greater daemon of chaos undivided had appeared aboard the ship and had spoken to the crew. It had said that the gods required a champion, someone who would provide them both entertainment and service. In order to find worthiest among them to be crowned champion, the gods issued a test of sorts. The test was thus: The Apostles would all pray, while the daemon would kill all who faltered in their prayer. The one who survived would become the champion. That had been months ago and indeed many had died. He and one other were left were all that were left of the original three-hundred.

It was utter agony. When the Apostle had begun praying, he had gotten on his knees and brought his hands together in front of his face. That was months ago, and he had gone without food or water for that entire time. He had gone that entire time without sleeping. He was marine, super humans designed to endure the worst conditions imaginable. A space marine could go weeks without food and days without water. He had long since passed the threshold for such things. He felt as though he was dying. He WAS dying.

The dark gods shined down upon him though, for in the next instant, he won. Perhaps it was for the god's amusement or perhaps the daemon was just bored and wished to end the test. Regardless of the reason, in the span of less than a second, the massive claws of the greater undivided daemon ripped the other contestant to shreds. He did not utter a single cry, not even twitching as his corps fell to the floor.

After the "unfaithful" one had died, the daemon spoke in a hellish, condescending tone that reverberated throughout the rusting hull, "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! It looks as though we have a winner! Congrats my dear boy, knew you had it in you." Pausing to let this sink in, he said "In any case, it's about time we get started!" the daemon said, slapping his massive, clawed hands together, "You see, the gods are in a bit of a tough spot. Something urgent has come up and they are in need of some service. I being the clever daemon that I am suggested that we use some of you chaos space marines. After all, you're quite hilarious to watch, what with your murder, bloodshed, and rape."

The apostle still bowed towards the daemon, seemingly dead. It chuckled at him, saying "But in all seriousness, the gods have a major problem on their hands." He reached out with his claws. Maddening, corrosive pink energy bloomed as his claws glided through the open air, rending the very fabric of space and time. "The problem is a bit complicated. An enemy of the gods is planning something. Now the gods would normally obliterate this threat or send a full war-band, but something has been done to limit their abilities in real-space. This, is where you come in." He grabbed the helmet of the apostle with his massive claws, forcing him to look directly at him, a sadistic smile painting his large maw. "Wreck their plans. Understood?" he questioned with the same condescending tone. The apostle pathetically nodded. "Good" said the daemon.

He patted the apostles head demeaningly "Well then," he gave a wide smile, "you best get to it." The Apostle slowly rose from his position, his armor creaking with rust and his limbs feeling as though ignited promethium coursed through their very fiber. He walked in absolute agony through the portal, with it closing as soon as he entered. The Daemon chuckled "Let the game begin." Fading out of existence, leaving the Battle-Barge silent as it now floated in the emptiness of space.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter TWO: Not of this world

The first thing the Apostle would feel upon waking, was the earth beneath his back. He opened his eyes, and was promptly blinded by the sun. Closing his eyes, he pulled himself up. Once standing he took in his surroundings. Green luscious trees, brown trunks, and a blue sky.

Indeed, he was not upon the Blasphemous truth any longer. The gods, in their infinite kindness (or cruelty) had stranded him upon a beautiful world. Though knowing the gods, he was probably on a hive world inside a pressurized garden of the ultra-wealthy with armed guards coming to shoot him as he contemplated his situation. _Wouldn't be the first time,_ thinking back to his days as an initiate. The cool breeze could be felt through his robe. _My armor_ He thought with a start.

Looking himself over, he found that he indeed lacked the crimson armor of his legion. Instead, he had a simple robe and armor. The robe was crimson parting down the center, bordered with black, and finished with a simple gold rope. Over his chest, arms, and legs he had black armor pieces underneath his robes along with a skull mask covering his face. Quite strange, but who was he to question the will of the gods?

He pated himself down frantically, searching for them and a moment later, he found his weapons. Upon his belt lie his greatest treasures. Upon his left hip, was his blessed Crozius, his right hip held his inferno bolt pistol, a gift from Ahriman himself, and on the small of his back, he could feel his satchel. He unsheathed his weapons, his Crozius in his left hand and his pistol in his right. His pistol, which he had the _Truth Bringer_ engraved on the side, brought back fond memories of past campaigns, while his blessed Crozius brought the subtle, sweet whispers to the back of his mind, putting him at ease.

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"ROOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAR!" reverberated through the forest, causing the birds(?) to leave the trees in a panic. The Apostle turned his head in the general direction of the roar, weighing the options of investigating. After short contemplation, he found that going to the large roar was the only option, as he had no idea where he was nor if there were any people for him to convert. Sighing to himself he walked boldly into the forest.

+-{[I]}-+

As he walked through the forest, the Apostle began to note the differences between this place and _Blasphemous Truth_ 's garden. The forest was full of life and sounds, animals and birds could be heard scurrying and flying about. Vibrant colors of green and brown were everywhere, quite pleasing to the eyes. A place of life and wonder. The garden upon _The Blasphemous Truth_ was a near polar opposite. A lush silent tomb-like place, no animals or birds, only small demons scurrying about. Strange purple leaves and red barked trees that seemed to stab one's eyes. A place of contemplation and thought. Both held beauty in their own way, he supposed. Where one could inspire him, the other could enlighten him. Indeed once he got back to _The Blasphemous Truth_ his Brot-

He stopped his brisk walk at that. His battle brothers, his fellow dark apostles, they were all dead. They had been slain in the contest by the demon so he couldn't tell any of them this, and _The Blasphemous Truth_ was probably a space hulk now, so he couldn't go back, not that he could get back in the first place. The gods had dropped him off with no means of transport, or method of communication, so it's not as though he could simply Vox nearby settlements off-planet.

Yet that also assumed that there were settlers, and if there were, that they had warp travel. If he was being honest with himself, he couldn't imagine the gods dropping him off on a world like they did if they wanted him to leave it. Or maybe they did and they wanted to see him struggle. But, who was he to try and comprehend the incomprehensible. Perhaps if it were Khorne alone he could make fairly accurate guesses, somewhere along the lines of _KILL, MAIM, BURN, KILL, MAIM, BURN, KILL…_ yet seeing as an undivided daemon had… requisitioned him, this was probably not the case. Though, since it WAS chaos undivided, murder had a role to play.

Not even noticing it in his self-reflection, the Apostle had already begun to walk again towards the rage filled roaring, which was steadily getting louder. Then he heard the revving of what sounded like… a… chain-axe? Now quite confused, he sprinted to what he identified as a tree line as other weapons made their sounds known to him.

He burst out of the trees and into a strange battle. Three figures were fighting black creatures, which seemed intent on murdering them. The first of the three to catch his attention was the medium sized one. Dressed in a strange combination of monochrome civilian attire and crimson plate armor and a Khorne helmet to top it off, this man (the Apostle assumed) wielded a lightning claw and gauntlet on his right while wielding a comically large change axe in his right hand, secured to his arm with chains.

The second figure was the smallest, and was dressed in a strange grey hooded robe covered in purple marking, (Slaanesh, if he had to guess) utilizing what appeared to be a sonic rifle, if the noise was any indication along with mecha-tendrils.

The final figure was the largest, dwarfing the other two. He was clad in thick, muck stained steel, wielding a massive power scythe. With each slash he took, arm mounted flame throwers spewed green fire at the beasts.

Although they seemed to not be working together, they each handled themselves quite well, being able to repel the beasts with little effort. However, as the crimson figure leaped at another of the wolf-like creatures, another one lunged to strike his exposed back. Mainly acting on instinct, he aimed _Truth Bringer_ at the beasts head and fired. With a loud _Bu-BANG!_ and SPLAT! the creatures head promptly exploded in a fine crimson mist of blood and brain matter. The fighters promptly turned their heads in his direction, if only for a moment and then went back to butchering the creatures.

A.N./ I still don't know how to use author notes properly. In any case, expect weekly updates to Chaos, Corruption, and Grimm. Also, chapter one has been revised slightly after speaking with long time Warhammer 40k players. Don't worry RWBY artist, the problem has been addressed. see you all in a weeks time.


	3. Chapter 3

They all stood, lightly sweating from exertion, (with the exclusion of the sonic-rifle guy since, you know, range) staring at one another. Now that they were close, the Apostle could see their features with greater detail. The crimson one wore black pants and a white shirt that said "F#CK OFF!" With his helmet hanging on his belt, the Apostle observed that he had a grey buzz-cut, five massive claw marks going down his face, and baleful, crimson eyes. The other two still covered their faces.

Deciding to break the ice, the Apostle gripped his now bloodied Crozius tightly, saying "I believe introductions are in order." They all looked at him. Bowing slightly, while removing his skull mask, he said "My name is Cicero, dark apostles of the Word Bearers" they all stared at him for a time waiting for one of them to say something. The smallest one decided to speak first in slightly a digitized voice "Mine," he stated slowly, as he lowered his hood with his gloved hands, "Is Sappho, Slaaneshi Tech-Priest of the Emperors Children." As the hood fell, they could see his pale face, the lower half covered by a breathing mask, head topped with… spiky purple-hair, and completed with glowing purple eyes.

They grizzled chain-axe wielder grunted and said in a deep gravelly voice "My name, is Allestor berserker of the World Eaters." He looked straight into Cicero's eyes while saying that, glaring and grimacing. Cicero just kept on smiling.

They all looked the large one now, his face still obscured by the faux Astarte's helmet. After what seemed like an eternity, the massive hulk of steel mag-locked his scythe to his back and slowly reached to undo his helmet. After the final strap was done, he lifted the helmet off his head and showed his face. He had a large head with sickly pale skin. He had a mop of brown hear, and a great beard of the same color. Green eyes looked on at them with complete and total apathy. "My name," the giant seemed to rumble out, "is Osiris, former plague marine of the Death Guard."

After that silence reined in this little group as their gazes shifted between each other. Seeking to get their little meeting going, Cicero asked, "Well, now that introductions are out of the way, May I inquire if any of you fine gentleman know where we are?" They were all silent staring at him. "Well," Cicero continued, unfazed "I'll take your silence as a no. Well then, if none of us know where we are, perhaps we could share with each other how we got to here, wherever HERE is?"

Again they were silent, until Sappho spoke up "I was working on defiler repairs after we had fought off some xenos race, when a greater Daemon of chaos undivided appeared before our captain. Before it could speak our captain, hyped on stims, began firing at it, causing a massive battle where the daemon slaughtered us. I surrendered and was spared. It said something about being chosen and a test of sorts, then it threw me through a warp rift and I ended up here. I ran to the sounds of… Allestor… fighting." Allestor, tensing at his name being uttered, glared at them.

After this brief pause, during which Allestor glared at them all with undying hatred, he said "I was fighting on Davin VII when one of those greater Daemons showed up. We just attacked it without listening. We managed to rip one of its arms off. After it had killed all the others, it just grabbed me and threw me through a warp rift, just like you two." They all turned their attention to Osiris, waiting for an answer.

He must have stood there for at least a minute, staring at them with that same apathetic look. After that, he slowly spoke, "I was serving with my fellow terminators during an invasion of the hiveworld Sevren V. our squad was assigned patrol duty of our camp. While we were making our rounds, a squad of attackers ambushed the camp. They were space marines who wore strange silver armor and wielded force-weapons of incredible power." He paused looking off in the distance, before focusing back on them. "By the end of the fight, we had killed the attackers, at the cost of nearly our entire invasion force. Since our ships had been bombed by those… Daemon hunters, I wandered the wilds for days, until one of those Greater daemons hurled me into a warp rift. After waking up, I was drawn by the sound of a chain weapon." He looked at Allestor, who glared back.

Though slightly surprised at the length of his explanation, Cicero pressed on. "I would not be wrong to say that our gear has been… altered?" Allestor growled at the use of the word "our". Sappho was the one to speak now, "Yes. Most of my implants have been removed and my data banks have had several programs installed. My entire nerve network has also reverted to its original state." His eyes shifted between them as he said this. "Though my mecha-tendrils and servo pack are still in operation as well as my sonic rifle and power sabre." Tendrils emerged out of his sleeves and servo-arms rose from his back side while he hefted the rifle with his right hand and rested his hand on his sabre's pommel.

Osiris spoke next in his rumbling voice, "My terminator armor is gone, as well as my mutations, replaced with… this." He raised his armor clad arm up to his face, "My incinerator and power scythe are still with me, luckily."

Lowering his arm, he looked straight at Cicero, obviously expecting an answer. Cicero obliged him. "Well, my own armor is gone as well, though my apostle robes are still with me." He gestured to his crimson robe. "As are my Crozius and bolt pistol, and my book of Lorgar." Allestor glared at the chipper inflection in Cicero's voice. Cicero stared back with a warm, brotherly smile on his face. Allestor eventually growled "My armors gone… my axe is with me." Nodding with satisfaction at the current state of their affairs, a sudden thought crossed Cicero's mind.

"Does anyone know where we are?" That simple question slammed on their minds like a thunder hammer on a guardsman's head. The thought that they didn't have their armor, their own war bands, or any indication of where they were. A thought like that would terrify a normal man. Luckily, these weren't normal men.

Without warning, Sappho jerked his head up and his eyes started to glow an eerie purple. Within three seconds, his eyes stopped glowing and he turned his gaze directly at Cicero. "Scans indicate the atmospheric composition of this world indicates amounts of human pollution, consistent with scans of civilized worlds saved to my databanks." Allestor glared at Sappho because of his response. "And that means?" he growled taking a step towards Sappho. Cicero stepped between them "It means there is a high chance that this planet might contain sentient life." Sappho nodded at his assumption. "There is a 73.264% chance of intelligent life being hosted on this planet, judging by its atmospheric composition."

"There is sentient life." Osiris suddenly said. Allestor growled "How can you be sure?" he shrugged "I found a path on my way here. Had footprints." They all stared at him for what seemed like forever. Then Cicero clapped his hands together and adopted a slightly manic grin. "Well then my fellows, it seems we have a destination. Osiris, lead the way!" Osiris shrugged and began walking in a random direction Cicero and Sappho following closely behind. After a few moments, Allestor growled and trudged off to follow them.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: First contact

Cicero found himself contemplating the forest again. How different it was from _The Blasphemous Truth's._ Life and sound surrounded the group as they steadily trudged through the dewy wood, Cicero leading the motley crew on the path after Osiris had found it. Behind Cicero, Sappho trailed closely, Osiris after him, and Allestor following at the back.

There were signs of intelligent life as well. Foot pints, _fresh_ footprints, were in the soil moist. They were small, barely 6" in length. Indeed as they followed them, they were crushed under the massive feet of the crew, replaced with large, gaping holes where water pooled into. The methodic sound of boots slowly trudging through the mud was relaxing to Cicero and infuriating to Allestor.

"Trudge, trudge, trudge, trudge… " He twitched.

"Trudge, trudge, trudge…" He grit his teeth.

"Trudge, trudge, trudge… "He clenched his fist till it drew blood.

"Trudge, trudge, trudge…" He snapped. Suddenly, he roared in anger and hatred, and revved up his chain-axe. Both he and his chain-axe let out a spine-chilling "ROOOOOOAAR!" With each stroke of his axe he released another rage-fueled roar, as multiple trees were ripped asunder as the adamantine teeth tore through the trees like a chainsaw through wet paper. The others merely watched as Allestor tore up the forest, seemingly content to wait and let him burn himself out.

After tearing through a particularly large tree, he fell to his knees and began bashing the torn up tree. With a final bestial roar, he ripped straight through it. He then sat their breathing deeply in and out, as if to calm himself.

"Are you done brother?" Allestor glared up at Cicero. He was merely smiling and looking down upon him with mirth in his eyes, "Or must we give you more time for your temper tantrum." Allestor murderously glared back at him, "You aren't my brother." Hate brimming from each word. Cicero merely chuckled, "We are all Astartes here brother, all of us have the false gods blood in our veins."

Sappho shuffled forward. "Forgive me for correcting you my lord," he bowed to them as he spoke, "but I am a tech-priest of mars, I have none of the false ones blood in my veins." They turned and stared at him, surprised that he had entered the conversation. Cicero gave him a mirth filled smile, "Do not apologize for such things… Sappho," he spoke his name as if he was tasting it, "Chaos accepts all under its banner." He then turned back to Allestor, who glared back at him. "I will ask again, are you finished?" this time, Allestor just glared at Cicero, the both of them entering a staring match.

After a few moments, Allestor looked down and growled "Yes." Cicero merely began walking down the path again saying, "Good, we have much ground to cover." Allestor picked himself up off the ground and followed after them.

"(*(\=0=/)*)"

They would follow this trail, searching for the being that made these fresh tracks… for another three hours. They wouldn't have known how long it would have been, if Sappho hadn't been updating them on the search time every hour. Really, it was getting quite monotonous. Quite boring. "A perfect time for something to happen..." Cicero thought to himself, "as in right now… now?" he mentally sighed. "The trials the gods give may seem tedious… because they were. The gods enjoy watching beings suffer." Cicero didn't know how contemplating the moods and motivations of the gods were supposed to make him feel any better. To be honest, they usually made one feel infinitely worse. The contemplation of the will of the gods was a past time best left to the mad and the insane. Cicero, being a (moderately) sane individual knew better than to openly complain about the gods. Best to complete the tasks and trials they gave you than to question them.

That wasn't to say that the gods weren't great and kind being as well. Slaanesh was the god of happiness after all. Happiness and suffering. Mostly suffering. Khorne, god of honor… and slaughter. Again, mostly slaughter. Tzeentch was the god of change both good and bad, though mostly bad. Nurgle, god of life and death. Pretty much on equal grounds there, but most of Nurgles "life" consisted of horrific corruption and decay.

Their merciful sides were rarely seen, if ever. Yes, it was more common to see a Khorne berserker sparing an innocent chi-

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" the scream distantly reverberated through the forest. They all cocked their heads simultaneously in the direction of the scream and after a moment contemplation, they dashed in the direction of the scream. Dodging and ducking through branches, fallen logs, and even a narrow crevasse, until they burst through a tree line.

In the clearing there was a large tree surrounded by a pack of those black beasts now with pig like features. They swarmed around the massive tree, constantly trying and failing to bash the tree to the ground. With each successive bash into the tree, cracks cascading through the tree. Another scream came from the branches, which caused the boars to redouble their efforts.

Cicero, being a veteran of the Word Bearer's and a Dark Apostle to boot, already had a plan. "All-" Allestor sprinted past him. He revved his chain-axe's and roared. "ROOOOOOOOOOOOOAR!" one of the boars turned its head from the tree and upon seeing Allestor turned and charged, going into an amazing wheel spin aimed at Allestor, who side stepped it at the last second and cut clean through the boar in a single swipe.

"Osir-" Osiris lumbered after Allestor to join in on the soon to be slaughter. Cicero watched as he went off.

"Sorry about them, my lord," Sappho said, readying his rifle, "What is your plan?" Cicero just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just shoot the damn things." Sappho nodded in affirmative and began firing at the beasts, careful not to hit the world eater or the deathguard as they ripped through the utterly pitiful beasts.

Cicero opted to join the others in melee, sprinting at the beasts. A few turned their heads to see the souled one who was firing at them and not only the tech-priest, but also Cicero sprinting towards them. They in turn charged at Cicero, going into their wheel form as they did so. Just before they reached him, Cicero planted his right into the ground, angled his Crozius, and used the force of both his run and swing to not only flat out stop its whirling attack, but to cave in its skull with a sickening crunch and sent it flying. He repeated the action with the next beast to assault him as five others passed him to attack Sappho.

Sappho calmly switched his aim towards the new assailants firing two shots at a pair of the beasts, the sonic blast liquefying them mid spin. As the others closed in, Sappho calmly let his mechatendrils holster his rifle as he drew his power sword, its blue crackling slashing one of the beasts as he drew it, killing it instantly. He dodged the fourth beast and rendered him into molecular putty with a clean slash through the center of its attack. As the fifth beast rounded upon him, Sappho didn't even bother to move, he just slashed vertically and let the visceral of the beast coat him as the matter tuned to mush before it could even reach him. He then calmly sheathed his blade and had his mechatendrils deposit his rifle back in his hands so as to continue to fire at these pathetic creatures.

Allestor's and Osiris's battle strategies were much more… simple. Allestor merely kept slashing at everything within reach, usually killing the victim instantly while Osiris used the extended reach and power filed of his scythe to tear multiple beats apart at once.

Within a mere minute of intense fighting the last of the beasts finally lay dead on the ground, with Allestor bashing its corpse with his chain-axe, mutilating it into a pile of gore and intestines.

After Allestor had stopped bashing the pile of gore, he breathed deeply the smell of slaughter and sighed disappointedly. "Not enough fight for you?" Cicero asked him, wiping blood off of his sleeves. "No," Allestor growled, "These beasts were pathetic, nowhere suitable as sacrifices for Khorne." Cicero spoke in a comforting voice, "Khorne cares not from whence the blood flows, as long as it flows." Allestor growled at that. "Which would be fine and dandy, if these frakking things blood didn't turn to frakking ASH!" he screamed at the sky as the blood and gore in and on his clothes, skin, and chain-axe slowly turned to ash, as did all the blood on all the other members of their group.

Cicero shrugged "Semantics. It still flowed when we killed them, so it's good enough." Allestor sighed, grumbling, "It's not good enough for me…" Cicero merely turned away in order to gauge the condition of the other two members of their impromptu team. Sappho was completely fine. He was currently brushing the visceral-turned-ash off of his cloak as was Osiris. Seeing that his teammates were fine, Cicero approached the tree containing the being that the beasts seemed so keen on killing. He walked away from his… team… until he stood before the large tree. He looked at the branches for the entity. "Hello, is anyone still alive up there?" A small rustle in the tree confirmed that there was indeed someone alive. After a few moments, a small child's face emerged from the green leaves of the tree. It spoke in frightened tone of voice. "Are all the monsters dead?" Cicero smiled at the girl. "Yes youngling, the beasts are dead. Are you alright?" he asked "Yes." She replied. "Would come down here so we can help you?" "Can you bring me home?" she asked worriedly. Cicero smiled, "Of course."

In reply to this, the small girl climbed down the tree with the spryness that reminded Cicero of a small deamonette he had seen weaving through an orgy of Slaanesh worshipers. If he remembered correctly, that little bugger eventually went on to kill and rape every last one of those cultists. ' _Sigh' Good times._

When the girl finally climbed down to the ground, she cowered behind the tree in fear. Cicero bade her to come to him. He couldn't help but notice how small she was. The little girl height barely reached his lower waist and had a white head of hair and gold eyes. He bent his knees to be closer to her height, as not to intimidate her. "We are not here to hurt you. What is your name little one?" She seemed hesitant to say anything, but seeing the smile on Cicero's face put her at ease. "m-my name is angel." He smiled deeper "Fitting, for one such as yourself." Angel smiled shyly. "Let me introduce you to the rest of my team?" She nodded her head in the affirmative. "Well then," Cicero said, standing back up., "let me introduce you to them."

She came out from behind the tree, tentatively stepping towards Cicero. He led her to where his team were cleaning themselves off. He gestured towards the berserker who was currently trying to clean the ash from his chain-axe with little success. "This axe wielding murderer is called Allestor." Angel looked at Allestor, who growled at her, making her hide behind Cicero's leg. "I apologize for my lord Allestor's mood, child," spoke the small techpriest, holding out his hand for the little girl. "My name is Sappho little one. What is yours?" She shyly came out from behind Cicero, meekly shaking his hand. "I'm A-Angel." The techpriest nodded at her name, saying "That is a very good name." She smiled at that. "The reaper is Osiris." Cicero interrupted, pointing at Osiris, who was polishing his scythe while sitting on log. He looked up from his blade and gave the girl a grunt of acknowledgement before going back to polishing. Cicero once again bent down to get to her level and asked, "So, little Angel, why were you out here?" She looked at the ground saying, "I-I was trying to get star fruit from this tree." Cicero frowned at the name of the fruit. "Sappho?" He inquired. Sappho nodded, and in less than a second, he responded with, "Climate does not match any known star fruit." _Deal with that later I suppose. For now though…_ "Where is your home?" She pointed her hand, back towards the path. "A few hours in that direction." He looked at the little girl for a moment before saying, "Well then, why don't you help us lead you to safety?" She nodded and began to walk to the path. _More people… can't wait to… Talk… to them._ Cicero chuckled at the thought of what was to come.

A.N. / Good god that took longer than I wanted. I know I said to expect weekly updates and I'm really sorry for the wait. I got supper sick for a week, bed-ridden for almost all of it, then I went to hang with my grandparents, got sick again, and my grandpa got angry and I couldn't use the computer. Sorry for all of wait.

 **I am not abandoning the story.**

I want to stress that. This isn't gonna be like Zack Argost, I plan to finish this story, no matter what happens. I wouldn't just stop it because it got hard and eave you all hanging, so don't worry, I'm not gonna end it until it's over. I'm also starting multiple other stories, featuring the likes of Steven universe, Bloodborne, Fallout, Magic Tree House, Rwby (obviously), Warhammer 40K (again, obviously), Mass Effect, and many, many others. Expect semi-regular updates when my body and schedule decide to finally stop frakking me up.


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